‘She has not accepted me yet.’
‘There is some chance, then?’
‘I think you misunderstand me. I live in earnest hope and anticipation of her acceptance.’
‘Oh . . .’
They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Fitzroy could not bear the embarrassment any longer. He smiled weakly and clasped Arthur’s hand. ‘Well then, I hope . . . sincerely hope that it all works out for the best, my dear Arthur. Really I do. Now I’d love to talk some more, but I’m here with some friends from the Guards, and we really only just came by for a quick drink. Look here, I’ll make sure I look you up in a day or so.’
‘I’ll look forward to it. Now, don’t let me stop you re-joining your friends. Goodbye, Fitzroy.’
‘Goodbye.’ Fitzroy nodded solemnly and turned away to walk unsteadily back towards the crowd of officers on the far side of the salon. Arthur stared after him for a moment, then made his way to the entrance, where he retrieved his hat and cape and stepped out of the lively atmosphere of the club into the cold dark street. He paused to breathe deeply of the chill night air and then marched quickly back to William’s house.
For the first time he was assailed with doubts about his offer to Kitty. It had been so easy to assume that she would still have that same essence of being that had won his heart years before. After all, Arthur reasoned, did he not feel himself to be substantially the same character as ever, beneath the layers of experience? But what if she had changed as much as Fitzroy claimed? Granted, her looks were bound to have faded. No, not faded, he corrected himself, but what, then? Surely someone who had been as beautiful as Kitty would have acquired grace rather than lost her looks. Yes, that was it. No wonder Fitzroy had perceived her as lacking beauty.The man was facile enough to not make the distinction. By the time he returned to William’s house Arthur was in a cold fury over his friend’s dismissal of Kitty.
The footman who let Arthur into the house took his cape and hat and motioned towards a silver salver on a table close to the door.A letter rested on the tray.
‘That came while you were out, sir.’
Arthur crossed the hall and picked up the letter. By the dim light of the handful of candles that William permitted as illumination he raised the letter and read the name of the sender. Katherine Pakenham. Dismissing the footman, he took up a candle and hurried into the parlour next to the front door, making for William’s writing table. He set the candle-holder down, sat at the table and hurriedly opened the letter. The very sight of her handwriting, spidery and cramped, evoked an excitement that filled him with a warmth and affection he was sure was love.
Kitty wrote that she had received his proposal, and that while she was minded to accept it she felt it only fair not to hold him to his promise until he had met her face to face so that he could be certain that he truly wanted to marry her. If his heart was unchanged then Kitty would be overjoyed, and proud to be his wife and companion for life.
The encounter with Fitzroy still smouldered in his heart, and as Arthur read through the letter several more times he warmed to Kitty’s honesty and integrity. He set the letter down, drew out a sheet of writing paper, a pen and a small pot of ink from the desk drawer and began to write a hurried response. He told her that if she would marry him he would be the happiest of men. There was no need to see her first. His heart was true and his mind was set on becoming her husband. That being the case, all that remained was to set a date for the wedding. He urged her to accept a date in April, so that no more time be lost before their loving union was blessed. He would settle his immediate duties in Hastings and set off for Dublin at the earliest possible date. If Kitty was agreeable, the ceremony would be conducted by Arthur’s brother, the Reverend Gerald Wellesley, who he was sure would be honoured to be asked. Having signed off the letter with a few hurriedly chosen endearments, Arthur blotted the paper, folded it, sealed it and addressed it before returning to the hall and setting it down with the others in the rack by the door that were waiting to be sent off.
Then, with a weary mind and heart, Arthur climbed the stairs towards the small suite of rooms that William had set aside for him. In a matter of weeks he would be marrying Kitty.The sudden reality of it was quite shocking, and though he felt his spirits rise a little at the prospect of having her for a wife at long last, he could not quite shake off the doubts that Fitzroy had instilled.
Chapter 18
Dublin, April 1806
The ship from Bristol fought its way across the Irish Sea to Dublin in the teeth of a spring gale and Arthur was gripped by seasickness as the vessel lurched from end to end, accompanied by a pitching and rolling motion that made his stomach churn violently. Unlike most of the other passengers who remained huddled down in their tiny fetid cabins below deck, Arthur preferred to be in the fresh air where he could see the horizon and use it as a fixed point to give him some sense of control over his nausea. Not that it worked all the time, as every so often the ship would soar or swoop without any warning and the sickness would return with a vengeance.
‘Good day to you, Sir Arthur!’ a voice called out cheerily, and Arthur turned to see Captain Acock striding up the deck towards him. His years at sea had accustomed him to the motions of the ship, to which he adjusted his pace with confidence. ‘Bit of a breeze today, I think.’
‘Bit of a breeze?’ Arthur shook his head ruefully. ‘I shall never understand what you sailors enjoy about your profession.’
‘Oh, it’s not so bad, sir.’ The captain laughed. ‘There’s nothing like cutting your ties with the land and setting out into the wild.’
Arthur nodded. Perhaps there was something to be said for such a life, though it had its own dangers.‘I think, on the whole, that I’d rather avoid sailing through such tempests as this.’
‘Tempest, you say?’ The captain smiled and shook his head, blinking as a shower of spray drenched them both.‘Hardly.This weather is typical for the time of year, sir.You get used to it. I dare say that you’ve not had much experience of sea travel, then?’
‘Oh, I’ve had my share, and my fill. I’ve been out to India and back.’
The captain turned to glance at him with raised eyebrows. ‘India. Now that’s real sailing. I’ve only ever crossed the Atlantic, on the Jamaica run. Some hard times in those days, I can tell you. But I’ve only ever heard sailors’ stories about the passage to India. Not many men do that in their lifetime, sir.’
‘Nor should they,’ Arthur replied with feeling as he recalled the cramped accommodation, the week-long storms, the lack of fresh food and above all the raw agony of the days, and sometimes weeks, before one found one’s sea legs and grew accustomed to the motion of the ship. The very thought had him gripping the side rail tightly as he struggled with another wave of giddy nausea.